


Virtue Ethics

by r0ryy



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Birthday Sex, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Frottage, Hand & Finger Kink, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Trans Female Character, Trans My Unit | Avatar, Voyeurism, i spelled his name without the u in the fic, idk that's what it is in the English version so i just went with it, trans!Kamui
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0ryy/pseuds/r0ryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kamui has pride issues and Ryoma is a tease.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whoomp I’m a few days late but here’s some birthday porn of my Fire Emblem fav and his shitlord girlfriend. <3 Part two will hopefully be up sometime next week. Please please please drop me a line and let me know what you think, I live on feedback!

Kamui couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this.

She would have punched anyone except Ryoma flat for asking and, even now, had her hesitations. But it _was_ his birthday, and she _did_ want to make him happy, and he _did_ have a fair point about the whole affair. 

She asked him one night, a few weeks ago, what he wanted from her. Ryoma had denied wanting _anything_ , at first, insisting that he didn’t like to make a big deal out of his birthday, but Kamui wasn’t having that at all. After an hour or two of insistent prodding and…other incentives, he finally managed to come up with a gift idea.

“You’re always the one tying me up. I…I think I’d like to return the favor, for a change.” He actually blushed when he admitted it, as though Kamui hadn’t spent the last half hour buried between his thighs, and she grinned, carding one hand affectionately through his hair.

“Hmm, I think we can arrange something like that.”

They had.

And now Kamui was bound to a simple wooden chair with several yards of soft cord, thank you Niles, which crisscrossed over her chest and arms to trap her wrists snugly behind her back. Even her ankles were tied loosely to the chair’s legs and the…thoroughness with which Ryoma had restrained her gave her a moment’s pause.

Not enough to back out of course, just enough for Kamui to be slightly pissed off about the whole situation and more than a little aroused.

“I still can’t believe I agreed to this,” she mutters glancing over at Ryoma where he is arraigning a few things on their night stand.

“You can always back out if it’s too much, love,” he replies, a reassurance and a challenge all at once.

Kamui scoffs. “Not a chance. If you can take it so can I. Pun intended.”

Ryoma laughs. “We’ll see.”

His tone definitely does _not_ make Kamui shiver, nope, not at all.

“We’ll see?” she grumbles, kicking experimentally to test the bindings a bit. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? “We’ll see.” I’ll be f–” She glances up in time to see Ryoma lounging back against their bed, his yukata already half-open and hanging off one thick, lightly freckled shoulder.

He smiles in that _stupid_ , gentle way of his and Kamui swallows thickly.

“I’m sorry, were you saying something my dear?” he murmurs, settling back into the pillows and letting his hands trail lightly down his chest, parting the thick material further. Kamui can barely help the way her eyes linger as more and more of his skin is revealed, and it’s only Ryoma’s soft voice that breaks her from her reverie.

“Do you remember your word?” he asks, serious, even as his fingers continue their downward journey.

“Y-yeah,” she manages to reply, shaking her hair a bit to clear it. “Siegfried, like always.” Kamui swallows, watching those hands trail slowly down his stomach. “And you?”

Ryoma hums lowly in response, fingers stopping just below his navel and tracing little circles into the smooth skin. “I remember.”

His voice makes her shudder openly this time, the ass, and Kamui can’t would glare at him, but she can’t tear her eyes away from his toned body. She watches his hands graze feather-light touches back up his abdomen, his chest, the knuckle of one just barely brushing a nipple, before they’re sliding back down, teasingly slow, the press of his fingers more insistent against the tender flesh.

Gods, but she loves his hands, loves the way they look, the way they feel, the way they move. Kamui herself found the fascination a little concerning, but Ryoma never seemed to mind. He told her once that he thought it was endearing how she liked to hold them, trace the myriad lightning scars that branched like trees over his knuckles and down his palm, map the ways they splintered like cracking frost over the strong joints of his fingers, and feel the softness of the skin underneath. _The price of wielding Raijinto_ , she had thought and understood, after seeing his hands bare for the first time, why he wore gloves so often. Not just to protect himself from the sword’s lightning, but to hide its effects from his siblings.

“You don’t want them to worry,” she’d said, not even a question, because Kamui understood. It was the same reason she had hidden all the bruises that resulted from training with Xander from her Nohrian siblings. Camilla would fuss, Elise would cry, and Leo would be up in arms researching to find just the right salve to fix them while simultaneously demanding she sit still and take it easy until he could treat every inconsequential blister and scrape –

“You’re thinking about something else.” Ryoma’s voice abruptly snaps her back to the present. “Is this not enough to hold your attention?” Beyond his teasing smile is a trace of concern that Kamui doesn’t miss so she shoots him a self-assured smirk to let him know that she’s still alright.

“Of course not love, you have my full–” she stutters to a stop when he pushes one finger slowly between his lips. Kamui swallows. “attention.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ryoma murmurs as he spreads his legs wider. Kamui has to physically bite back a groan when his yukata slides off to the side and exposes the pale stretch of one long leg. She adores the freckles that smatter across his strong thighs and wants desperately to taste them, follow the path his hands are tracing across the firm skin with her tongue until she reaches his –

Kamui feels her mouth get dry when she realizes that Ryoma has shrugged the thick fabric away entirely and his fingers are busy slowly circling around the base of his cock. She watches him settle further back against the bed, sighing as he closes his hand loosely around the shaft and begins to lazily pump himself. Ryoma’s head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut with a low, sweet moan and Kamui’s smalls are suddenly far, far too tight.

“You know,” she murmurs, licking her lips, drinking in every inch of his reclining body with hungry eyes. “I could do that for you.”

“I suppose,” he replies, head rolling to one side to make eye contact with her, hand never stopping its slow, steady motions. “But you’re all the way over there.”

“I don’t have to be.” Kamui’s voice is gruff, thick with the promise of what she could do to him. What she _would_ if he’d just let her out of all this damn rope. Ryoma pauses for a moment, considering her with slowly roving eyes that have her shifting impatiently against the chair, her own cock already hard and throbbing with anticipation.

“Do you want me to let you out, love?” he asks, cocking his head appraisingly and exposing the pale column of his throat.

“Yes.” Kamui nearly growls the word, arms tensing against the restraints hard enough to hear the chair creak.

Ryoma hums in consideration, sliding a single finger along the curve of his length, “Say please.”

Kamui feels herself stop dead, eyes narrowing into slits as she sourly regards the prince. _So that’s your game?_ She wants to say something smart in reply, but opts for stony silence instead, squaring her posture defiantly, even as the shift in position causes a teasing pressure to rub up against her groin.

Ryoma actually laughs when he catches her glare. “I knew I would get you there.” He resumes his earlier stroking almost carelessly, unfazed by Kamui’s ire.

“So that’s the deal, huh? I have to say please for you to let me out.” She fights to keep her voice flat, refusing to be distracted by the slow motion of his hands.

“Yes,” he sighs, eyes fluttering closed again as he continues pumping himself languidly.

“Is this payback for kicking your ass during training yesterday?”

“No,” he replies, with just a trace of smugness. “Consider it a lesson in pride.”

“A _lesson_?” That haughty little _asshole_. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I believe that’s what I was doing before you interrupted, love.”

Kamui is impressed enough at his comeback to stay silent for a few moments, long enough for Ryoma to retrieve the bottle of oil from their nightstand and slick his fingers. His moan when they return to his body makes Kamui’s cock twitch in her smalls and the low pulse of arousal is enough to spark her grumbling anew.

“Well you can forget it then, because I am _not_ begging. Not a chance.”

Ryoma opens his eyes to smile at her, she hates how pretty it makes him look. “We’ll see.” he replies, drizzling more oil into his palm.

“There you go again with this “we’ll see” crap,” Kamui gripes, flexing against the restraints. “Just let me out so I can fuck you.”

“Say please.”

“No.”

“Then I believe I’ll have to deny you, love.”

Kamui groans twisting a bit to test the rope’s strength, still unable to tear her gaze away from Ryoma’s hands as one continues to glide up and down his length, pausing at the top to thumb his slit, the other sliding down lower and lower –

_Oh no._

 He spreads his legs even wider than before and Kamui can see where he has two fingers pressed lightly, teasingly against his entrance. He begins circling the puckered flesh slowly, delicately, spreading the oil over the flushed skin until it is glistening in the low light. She swallows thickly.

Kamui wracks her brain for some sort of witty remark, but the words slip through her fingers like water the longer she watches Ryoma’s entrancing display. His gasps softly, eyes slipping closed, lower lip pulled between his teeth as he slowly pushes a single finger inside his body.

“Fuck,” Kamui breaths, cock throbbing heavily between her legs as she watches his hips twitch forward into the motion. Ryoma’s eyes find hers and she nearly melts under the intense stare.

“That wasn’t a please.” he murmurs, holding her gaze as he begins pumping the digit in and out of his body.

“You fucking –” Kamui nearly chokes on her words when he moans suddenly, body arching off the bed as his hand begins to move faster. Ryoma’s hips buck, grinding back into his own touches and Kamui groans miserably at the sight. The pulsing of her cock has become one continuous ache, already dripping precum into the tangled mess of her smalls. She longs to touch him, taste him, burry herself in his hot flesh and _fuck_ him until Ryoma was the one who was begging for release.

“Gods just let me out already,” she almost growls, “I can’t take this anymore.”

But Ryoma appears to have completely stopped paying attention, one hand slipping from his length in favor of holding his legs apart, fingers gripping at the pale flesh of one trembling thigh hard enough to bruise. Kamui throbs incessantly at the sight of the prince’s mouth falling open and brow rising in pleasure as he begins working in a second finger.

She can’t help but drink in every detail of his body with ravenous fervor. The way his heels dig into the bed for more leverage, the way his thighs twitch with every plunge of his fingers deeper and deeper into his body, the way his breathing hitches and he groans a little with every exhale, the way he fucking _whines_ when his fingers brush that spot inside him.

“Ryoma,” her voice is rough, her cock a constant ache, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. “Ryoma, gods.” Kamui realizes she’s been grinding herself against the chair, the pressure of the hard wood and the friction of her shifting cloths doing nothing to relieve the desperate need that continues to build and build and build inside her. Fuck she’s going to lose her _mind_ if he keeps up with this.

“Ryoma, _fuck_ , let me out, let me touch you.”

“You…know what you…have to say,” he pants, sliding a third finger in alongside the other two, hissing at the stretch, even as his hips roll back into the motions. Kamui bites her lip to keep herself from whimpering when Ryoma moans hard, head thrown back, grinding and crooking his fingers to hit that spot inside. There is a pretty blush high on his cheeks, one that spreads slowly down his chest to where his cock is swollen and dripping precum onto the toned skin of his abdomen. She drinks him in as though she is dying from thirst, from the wild splay of his hair to the flex of his biceps to the slick motions of his hands to the way his toes curl in the sheets to –

“Gods you’re fucking _gorgeous_ ,” Kamui breathes, more to herself than to him, grinding harder and harder into the chair, rutting against her clothes, chasing down anything, _anything_ to ease the aching strain in her cock. _Oh_ , she wants to say it, she wants to say please, to beg, to do whatever it takes to break free of this thrice damned rope and burry herself in that sinful body. Kamui bites down on her lip until it nearly bleeds to keep the words from rushing out of her mouth.

She nearly loses it when Ryoma keens high and long, fingers plunging in and out of his body in an almost violent motion that has him jerking and trembling and gasping incoherently. His body jolts suddenly, spine bowing in a lovely arc, hips shaking, and Kamui _moans_ at the sight. He locks eyes with her a split second before his lips part, her name a heated whisper that fractures suddenly into a desperate cry, and he comes, release splattering across his stomach, mouth open in ecstasy, body heaving and writhing against the sheets. She takes in the sight of him as he comes down from the high, flushed and quivering, slick down to his thighs, whimpering when he withdraws his fingers and fuck, Kamui _throbs_.

She whispers his name in a halfhearted plea, begging silently with her eyes and parted lips for him to _let me out let meout letmeout_. Kamui thinks she might die if she doesn’t get her hands on him right now, feel his skin beneath her mouth, drag her nails over every fucking inch of him.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” Ryoma’s voice is low and breathless and she shudders hard at the sound of it. She realizes that he’s standing next to her by the time the wave passes, smiling coyly down at her and waiting.

Kamui has the barest shred of pride left, the final bit that hasn’t been burned away by hopeless arousal, and it is just enough for her to gaze up at the prince, _fuck he looks so good_ , and close her mouth.

“You’re trembling.” He’s right.

Kamui’s voice is weak. “Gods, fuck y–” But before she can reply, Ryoma presses two fingers against her open mouth. She can feel them, slick with his own release, and she moans in utter abandon, sucking them hungrily into her mouth, resolve shattered to pieces. Kamui laves her tongue over every bit of flesh she can reach, the texture of his scarred fingers gliding over her eager tongue, the taste of him overriding all her other senses until nothing exists but the warmth of his hands and his quiet groan of approval and _Ryoma Ryoma Ryoma –_

He pulls them slowly from her mouth and she gasps raggedly, “Please. Please, gods _please_ let me out, let me touch you, _fuck please_ I can’t take it anymore…”

Ryoma leans forward, lightly caressing her jaw, and smiles.

“Finally.”

And he _grinds_ his knee into Kamui’s groin.

The world whites out.

What began as a gasp in her throat shatters into a primal scream and Kamui’s entire body convulses as she comes, thrashing against the bonds and thrusting desperately against the solid warmth of Ryoma’s thigh as the waves of pleasure wreck her entirely. Her body rolls frantically into the motions, chasing down every bit of friction it can to prolong this blissful release. She comes down ever so slowly, cock still twitching and pulsing in the mess of her smalls, until her unrestrained cries subside into occasional groans and her breathing begins to level out.

Kamui slumps forward, still quivering along her arms, and finds herself pressed against Ryoma’s hip. It takes her a moment to register his hands carding softly through her hair and a moment longer to hear his murmured reassurances, obviously intended to bring her back to earth as gently as possible.

“There we go, are you alright love?” Kamui nods mutely, not trusting herself to speak. Now that the desperate arousal is fading, she finds her earlier exasperation returning tenfold. She wants to bite the soft skin of his hip, of his thighs, of his shoulders and throat until he _wails_ , but she quietly pushes the aggression back down, for now. _I’ve waited this damn long…_

“I’m going to untie you, alright?” Ryoma’s voice remains gentle and Kamui forces herself to hum quietly in agreement and nod again. He makes quick work of most of the knots, kneeling before her and loosening the rope slowly so as not to hurt her. Kamui takes a moment to appreciate his consideration before the bindings fall away and she is out of the chair like a shot.

Her hands find Ryoma’s biceps in an instant and she is yanking him up off the floor, shoving him towards the bed with enough force to knock the prince momentarily off balance and pull a surprised noise from his lips. With practice and familiarity born of countless sparing sessions, she uses her superior agility to spin him in a quick half-cirlce and, once they are close enough, all but _throws_ him onto the bed.

Kamui has hip flipped onto his stomach and pinned to the mattress in the next second, grinding her hips, her soaked smalls, and her hardening cock against the thick swell of his ass. Ryoma moans fervently and pushes back against her motions, fingers twisting into the sheets as he starts to pant. The feel of him thrusting back against her drags a deep groan from Kamui’s chest. She buries one hand in his hair and sinks her teeth in his shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise on the freckled skin. Her hands roam endlessly, grabbing roughly at every inch of exposed skin she can, reveling in the sensations of finally, _finally_ touching him.

Kamui yanks his head back so she can trail hot kisses up the pale column of his throat, taste his hammering pulse, and hear his breathless groan as she snarls into his ear, “My fucking turn.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamui gets her revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, sorry it took so long to get chapter 2 finished, but here it finally is! As always, kudos, comments, criticism and the like are GREATLY appreciated, and feel free to stop by my tumblr any time and chat!!

_You_ , Kamui thinks, bearing her weight down on Ryoma and making sure he can’t escape her iron grip, _fucking asked for it._

She has him pressed flat against the bed, one hand tangled in the coarse mane of his hair, the other trailing open-palmed and hungry over the strong planes of his body. Her mouth is already occupied with his neck, unable to resist sucking the hot skin between her teeth and feeling Ryoma shudder when she finds the sensitive parts of his throat. Kamui’s already hard again and _desperate_ to be buried inside him, but she keeps finding herself distracted by the way he shivers or moans or the taste of him, heady enough to drown in. Ryoma’s almost sensory overload, in and of himself, and Kamui thinks silently, for possibly the hundredth time, that it’s _no damn fair_ for someone to be so appealing.

“Still good?” she manages to rasp, trying to control her ravenous motions, at least for a moment.

“Gods, yes,” he gasps canting his hips up to grind back against her and making Kamui remember anew how badly she’s aching to fuck him. She pushes aside her loose pants and smalls enough to free her cock and grip its throbbing length in one hand, too impatient to properly strip off the rest of her clothing. Kamui is silently thankful that she had the foresight to remove all her elaborate armor _before_ Ryoma tied her to the chair, it made the whole process much easier.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” she growls pressing the head against Ryoma’s slick entrance, using her knees to knock his legs wider apart.

“Yes,” he moans, rolling his hips and feeling it slip over the puffy, used flesh. “Nnn, please.” His voice trembles on the word and Kamui can’t help but grin.

“Wow,” she manages to breathe, “And I wasn’t even going to make you beg.”

“Liar,” Ryoma grumbles, but Kamui can see him smiling as he grinds back against her again. “We both know this is your idea of revenge.”

“Revenge? Me? Never.” She does her best to sound indignant, but Ryoma’s squirming, the hot friction against the head of her cock, makes her voice nearly crack into a moan. “Unlike _someone_ , I happen to be incredibly benevolent when it comes to indulging my lover.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me,” he groans, digging his knees into the mattress and pushing up against her. Kamui grasps his hips with one hand and pulls them the rest of the way up so that he’s half kneeling, face still buried in the rumpled sheets.

“You’re so lucky I’m impatient,” she growls, grasping her cock with one hand and pressing herself slowly into his body. Kamui feels Ryoma jerk when the head slips inside, a sharp gasp parting his lips. He tenses up _deliciously_ around her and for a moment she has to fight down the temptation to slam herself all the way inside at once; it’s no fun if she can’t tease him just a little.

She starts working herself in deeper with smooth little rolls of her hips, giving Ryoma just a bit more with each careful thrust, one hand on his thigh to keep him steady and the other palming greedily at the thick curve of his ass. Kamui can feel him twitching impatiently, hissing softly with every shallow motion and she knows he wants more.  

Ryoma groans suddenly and shoves himself back, trying to take more of her cock into his body, but Kamui is fast and pulls away instantly, not letting her length slip entirely out of him, but not letting him get any more inside either.

“Something wrong?” she murmurs, leaning forward to brush her lips along his spine, grip tightening over his hips so that he can’t move them without her permission.

“I didn’t tie you to that chair so you would take your time,” he breathes, glaring halfheartedly back at her over one shoulder.

“Oh, so you had other motivations for that little stunt.” She shoves another half inch inside him.

“Nnn yes,” Ryoma moans, fingers twisting in the sheets. “I wanted you to _fuck_ me.”

Kamui groans. “Say fuck again it sounds hot.”

“Fuck.”

She growls contentedly and thrusts in to the hilt. Ryoma gasps and shudders hard, arching his back to better accommodate the sudden, thick intrusion. Kamui grinds her hips against his ass, relishing in the tight, slick, heat of him and the way his muscles flutter around her cock.

“Fuck you feel so good,” she says, moving one hand to tangle her fingers in Ryoma’s hair again. Kamui pulls his head back roughly to suck and bite at his throat and his deep moan when she tugs harder at the coarse strands makes her _throb_.

She starts rocking into him with long, hard thrusts, pulling nearly all the way out before she slams back inside, trailing her mouth over his shoulders and neck. Kamui worries the freckled skin between her teeth, adoring the shivering little noises that keep pouring from Ryoma’s lips. She twists her fingers harder into his hair and leans up, shoving his head deeper into the sheets and grinding her cock against his walls, searching for the spot she knows will make him see stars.

When she finds it Ryoma cries out hoarsely and spasms beneath her.

“ _Oh fuck_ ,” he whispers hands trembling where they are fisted in the sheets.

“You like that?” Kamui says breathlessly, repeating that same motion with her hips.

“Y-yes.” Ryoma gasps, voice cracking when she does it again. Kamui keeps copying the motion over and over, until he is a writhing, incoherent mess beneath her, moaning brokenly into the mattress with every hot slide of her length inside him.

“Harder,” he almost whimpers. “Fuck me harder.”

“Gods,” Kamui snarls, quickening her thrusts until she is pounding into him, pulling harder and harder at his hair until Ryoma nearly wails. She is groaning breathlessly with every exhale, using her iron grip on the prince’s ass as leverage as she pounds into him. Their wet, filthy sounds go straight to her pulsing cock and Kamui knows she isn’t going to last much longer.

“Where do you want me to come?” she growls into his ear, feathering her teeth along the delicate curve.

“Inside me,” Ryoma moans, jerking feverishly against her. “I-I want to feel it.” Kamui can feel his hips shaking under her hands and she knows, through the red haze of pleasure, that he’s just as close as she is. She moves her hand from his ass to take hold of his neglected cock, swollen and dripping between his legs, and Ryoma almost screams.

“Kamui.” His voice is hot and breathless and desperate and _fuck_ she’s so close. “ _Kamui_.”

“I wanna feel you come,” she groans, stroking him faster, rhythm faltering as she chases down her own release. “Feel you clench up around me, _fuck_ Ryoma.” Gods he’s so tight, so hot, so perfect writhing beneath her.

His name spills from her lips again and again as she drives herself into him harder, faster, greedily drinking in his moans as they rise in pitch and volume until Ryoma gives a half-intelligible wail of her name and spills across her hand. Kamui comes a second later with a hoarse cry, burying herself in him to the hilt and riding out the waves of pleasure with jerky rolls of her hips until the hot pulses begin to recede and Ryoma’s spasming muscles draw out the last of her orgasm.

She collapses on top of him, too exhausted to even think about moving for at least a few minutes. Kamui buries her face in his shoulders until her breathing evens out some, enjoying Ryoma’s own winded panting and the feeling of her cum rolling down his thighs.

“Was it worth the wait?” he says, turning his face to grin up at her. Kamui groans and rolls herself off of him. Her back hits the bed with a dull thud and she sighs up at the ceiling.

“You’re the worst. How dare you try to teach me patience? Using sex, nonetheless.” Ryoma laughs, hoarse but genuine, and reaches out for her. Kamui obliges him, scooting over to bury herself in the prince’s chest as he rolls onto his side. She feels his thick arms come up around her and Kamui relaxes into the embrace.

“I knew it wouldn’t actually teach you anything, but I don’t mind. Your lack of virtue is surprisingly endearing.”

Kamui snorted. “You just wanted me to fuck you harder,” she grumbles, biting halfheartedly at one nipple.

His laughter rumbles through her, good natured and warm, and she can’t fight the contented smile that spreads across her features. “You’re certainly right about that,” he says.

They lapse into comfortable silence for a bit, both too content to think about having to clean themselves up, just yet. Kamui traces circles into Ryoma’s ribs, feeling the taunt skin rise and fall beneath her fingers. She feels warm and sated and comfortable, despite the cooling stickiness between her legs.

“You could have just asked, you know,” she murmurs after a while, looking up just in time to see him grin again.

“Of course, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”

Kamui chuckles. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re probably right.” She wraps her arms around his back and hugs him closer. “Happy birthday, by the way.” 

Ryoma hums contentedly and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Indeed it was.”


End file.
